“The faith of the nation is being tested,” Barb said, tightly. “That’s the bottom line. We are not going to be able to stop this thing absent God’s aid. And He is being, as Janea pointed out, Old Testament. We either prove that we still retain faith in Him or we might as well be doomed now.”
“I hate to ask this, but nuclear weapons?” the NSA said. “It is on the table.”
“Then you’d just have a radioactive pissed-off Old One,” Janea snapped. “You’re not getting it. There was no effect. None. It’s insubstantial to most things. But it can affect its environment if it chooses. I strongly doubt that plasma is going to help, no matter how much you throw at it. There are references to these things inhabiting stars. That’s more firepower than we’ve got, buddy.”
“Janea,” Barb said.
“No,” Janea said. “I’m tired of being looked at like a freak because I believe. Well, get this straight, you stupid suit bastards. Get with belief, now, fast, or this country, this nation, this continent and this world is doomed. Get that through your fat politician heads, for Freya’s sake. I don’t care if you believe in the White God or Odin or fricking Vishnu! Just get some faith, fast, or find somebody to do your job who has it!”
“Janea,” Augustus said. “Your passion is understood. But try to be a bit less Asatru for a moment. NSA.”
“Go,” the NSA said, his jaw working.
“We need to move this discussion to the next level,” Augustus said. “And I strongly recommend bringing in the SC Onsite team, passionate as one of them may be.”
“I will take that under advisement,” the NSA said balefully. “Break this down.”
“Well, that was fun,” Janea said, starting to take off her headset.
“Miss Janea,” SOCOM said as soon as the other leadership was off the line.
“Yeah?” Janea answered, settling her headset back on.
“I was wondering if, assuming we get this situation under control, you might be in the Tampa area any time soon,” the admiral said, his face blank.
“Is that a palpable hit, admiral?” Janea purred. “You’re kinda cute for an older guy.”
“Ahem,” the admiral said, clearing his throat. “I appreciate the compliment. But actually…I’d like to talk to you about this Asatru thing. Any religion where the prime requirement is to die in battle…interests me. And all this is sort of giving me religion. Possibly over dinner?”
“Assuming we can kill this thing, it’s a date,” Janea said. “In fact, kill it or not, it’s a date. ’Cause we might as well have fun while the world is consumed by evil.”
“I don’t get where a bunch of people praying are going to help,” Randell said. “Does God need the power? I thought He was all-powerful.”
“No,” Sharice said. “He doesn’t need the power.”
There being effectively nothing to do but wait for doom, absent a miracle, the FBI agents and the cave team had gathered at the SC house. Most of the rest of the groups in the area were packing up as fast as they could. Most of them still didn’t know why, but the panic was palpable in those who did.
“I’m Wiccan, but I fully recognize the power of the White God,” the old witch said, taking a sip of tea. “Whether the White God was, is and ever shall be or not, He is immensely powerful. He could bat the Gar like a fly. A gnat. A mite.”
“So what’s with the ‘the nation must have faith’?” Randell said angrily. “He’s just going to let us die?”
“He might as well,” Janea said, shrugging. “When Ragnarok comes, people are going to have to choose sides. If this nation can’t get its act together with the threat of the Gar…” She paused and frowned.
“What?” Barb asked.
“The Old Ones are neutrals in the battle between our side and the infernal,” Janea said. “And the US is the most powerful nation on earth. If your God, all the gods, are questioning which side the US will come down on…”
“Surely we are not so far gone,” Barb said, her face white.
“This is a pretty good test,” Janea said. “And if we’re so far depraved that we would side with the infernal in the final battle, He can take us out of play by giving us to the Gar. For that matter, it’s probable that the infernal and the Old Ones don’t get along any better than the gods and the Old Ones. It gives the demonic a serious thorn in their side.”
“That is sick,” Randell said. “See, this is why I hate God.”
“Why?” Janea said. “I think it’s brilliant. If we can’t even get it together to face the Gar, we’re sure as Hel not going to get it together before the hosts of the giants. This is a pretty easy and straightforward test. Can we muster enough believers to make a difference? Or are we useless to Him in the final battle? Hel, in the old days He’d have dropped fire from heaven on us for being too far gone. This time we get the Gar. How many Lots can America muster? There’s going to be more than one family, but are there enough?”
“‘And the beast shall arise from the endless depths…’” Barb said, frowning. “Actually, the Gar is sounding a lot like the Antichrist.”
“I thought it was ‘sea,’” Randell said.
“Bad translation,” Sharice said. “More like ‘from complete deepness.’ Apparently, King James had a thing with not liking the ocean. ‘From the sea’ was close enough to ‘from the deep,’ so that’s the King James version. He had about two hundred scholars working on the translation, but he had final approval on the text, and they were…aware of certain political realities. It’s beautiful verse, but there’s a lot of stuff like that in it. ‘Suffer not a witch to live,’” she added a touch bitterly.
“What’s the actual translation of that?” Master Sergeant Attie asked.
“That’s a bit debated,” Sergeant Struletz said. “It’s got two variants even in the oldest texts, one of which wasn’t available to King James’ scholars, and you’ve got to remember that even that is from oral tradition. One variant is something that translates sort of as ‘she who poisons.’ But that one was written during a period when arsenic was just being widely recognized as a poison, and all the kings, and you’ve got to remember that it’s always kings who got these things written, were really down on posioners. The other is more like ‘she who uses black magic to kill.’ Definitely a woman. Definitely one with powers that are poorly understood. One translation is more or less ‘she who is a fish.’ Which makes no sense.”
“The preferred one-word translation is ‘sorceress,’” Vivian said, raising her hands hopelessly. “But it’s us witches that prefer it, so there you go. But it’s definitely not witches, at least as we define witches. Which, pardon the pun, is female persons who are worshippers of the All. We’re still pagans, and a few of the prophets were really down on that, too. But if it wasn’t for that one word, we’d probably be able to get along with Christians about as well as, say, Hindus. But King James’ scholars had to go and translate that one word wrong. So we’re unredeemably evil in the eyes of almost all Christians.”
“Catholics aren’t that way,” Struletz said. “Most of us, anyway. Ecumenicism and all that. We’re still down on you because you’re pagans, admittedly.”
“So are you,” Sharice said. “Ever prayed to Michael?”
“Let’s not start that debate,” Barb said. “If we can’t convince the earthly powers that it’s time to get God, in all his fury and glory, involved, we are in deep kimchee.”
“And you may just have that chance,” Graham said, plucking his phone off his belt and looking at a message. “We’ve got a videoconference set up at sixteen hundred.”
“With who?” Janea asked. “Another group of suits?”
“I believe I asked you not to ask,” Graham said.
“Mrs. Everette, High Priestess Janea,” the President said.
Barbara nodded and tried not to smile. The government loved acronyms so much, they couldn’t even have “President” on the screen. It had to be POTUS. The only part that surprised her was the person next to him, a middle-aged man with CJSCOTUS under his name. Then there was SHR, a pinched-faced woman who was looking decidedly unhappy at the conversation, SMjL, a middle-aged man who looked as if he was about to burst a blood vessel, MLHR, an older man who was mostly looking bemused, and SMiL, a middle-aged man who was watching Barb with a great deal of interest.
Way over to the side were minor luminaries like SECDEF, CJCS, DHS, NSA and so on. Force commands didn’t make the cut, so Janea couldn’t preen for SOCOM.
